Shadows of Cassala

Time heals all wounds. This isn't always a good thing.

First Session: Druids and Shadows

On the 3rd Month, 20th Day, 1014th Year of the Age

9

AUG/13

An Elven Wizard, on his master’s request, entered the woods in search of Druidic assistance…
A Halfling Druid, with a Lion by his side, guided tables to their places…
A Half-Orc Druid, friend of boar and bird, prepared meat for the feast…
A Half-Orc Fighter, loner by preference, followed a Stag to where he needed to be…

A grand event was being had in the Freeland Woods area. A Spring Dawning festival. This was to be a special festival, the 30th cycle of seasons since the Druids last communed with The Stag and the time to do so again. Things were being prepared and some people got to talking. The wizard, whose name is difficult to say for many, spoke to Rotted Stump of a strange plant. Rotted Stump directed him to Mossy Rock, the half-orc druid who had a dream of such a plant. Ruhe, the halfling, was directing tables to prime spots free of roots and ditches when the half orc warrior Kertug entered the scene. Conversations were had, pleasantries exchanged, food was eaten, drinks were drunk, and all was well within the forest.

The time for the Spring Dawning ceremony came. The Eight, the High Druids of Freeland, gathered in a circle around a bonfire. Chaining of hands and vocalizing the words of old the Eight called forth The Stag. A shimmering male deer, a primal force of light and hope, an ambassador of Nature’s will, stood before those in attendance.

He flickered. Faltering. Shadows crept across his visage. The lights went out, torches and bonfire alike. With the new blanket of night came animated darkness. Dozens of black wispy beings poured out of where the bonfire used to be. Chaos erupted as Druids fled in all directions. However, some stood to fight the darkness. Amongst them were our four adventurers. A fierce and bloody battle was being fought. More than two dozen shadows had been felled and just as many druids lay in the dirt. A wave of force rushed over the battle grounds and a giant creature of shadow appeared grappling with the light of The Stag. The fight raged until all of the shadow that remained was locked in combat with The Stag. Kertug tried to slip in for a flanking attack but viciously struck. He remained conscious by only his never say die attitude and was rewarded with the most terror he has ever felt. He fled in fear, but no one could call him a coward. The Stag pressed into the shadow’s form and they began to melt, to ebb and flow with power and turmoil. They vanished, perhaps taking the fight elsewhere, perhaps something else.

The Eight were nowhere to be seen. Many Druids were dead. They survivors gathered their wits and discussed the repercussions of this night. They moved some ways away from the hellish scene and accepted whatever troubled sleep they could get. Tomorrow, it was decided, they would head to the nearby city of Lacey to see if the odd plants had some connection to these events.